


Day 14: Handcuffs

by mrs_d



Series: Do What I Wantober 2020 [14]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:15:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27024913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: He was truly bound now— or, as bound as he could be, which was to say, bound only by his word that he wouldn’t escape.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Do What I Wantober 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947496
Comments: 5
Kudos: 93





	Day 14: Handcuffs

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I need to say this, but just in case I do: fiction is not reality, by which I mean that handcuffs are not the best choice if you're looking for some bondage fun in the bedroom.

Lucifer awoke to a familiar _snick_ and the touch of cool metal closing around his right wrist. 

He cracked one eye open and caught the swing of Chloe’s hair as she turned away. The mattress shifted under his back as she climbed off the bed, and he hastily closed his eyes again, so she wouldn’t see he was awake. 

He heard the shuffle of her bare feet on the floor, then the mattress moved again, and his left arm was gently lifted over his head to join the right. Another metallic click, and both wrists were attached to the ring they’d installed the night before, just for this purpose. He was truly bound now— or, as bound as he could be, which was to say, bound only by his word that he wouldn’t escape.

It was an effort to keep his eyes shut and his face impassive as she tugged on the waistband of his silky lounge pants. When the pants were gone, her warm hands slid up his bare torso. He twitched unintentionally when they reached his nipples, but if Chloe noticed, she didn’t react in any way that he could perceive with his eyes closed. Instead, she kept moving up, until her fingers were entwined with his, then she lifted one leg and straddled him.

From the feel of cheap cotton against his torso, she was still dressed — if those teensy shorts and tight tank top could be called ‘dressed’ — but his body’s reaction wasn’t so different than if she were naked. Chloe obviously noticed, because she scooted backwards until her rear collided with his cock, now standing almost fully upright. She canted her hips up and back, rubbing his entire length in slow, sure strokes. Even through her clothes he could feel the heat of her skin, but the pedestrian fabric between them bunched and pulled in a maddening tease.

Still, he didn’t move or make a sound, still feigning sleep. She had been very specific when describing her fantasy last night, even if she knew he’d be playing, the same as she knew he’d be playing like he couldn’t snap her handcuffs with the barest twitch of his finger. 

But it was getting harder and harder — ha ha — to keep up the ruse. She pinned his bound hands to the ring in the headboard and ducked over him, filling his nose with the familiar, alluring scent of her hair. When her teeth scraped the sensitive place just behind his left ear, his lips twitched once before he schooled his expression. 

He squirmed — sleepily, he hoped — as Chloe’s mouth slowly moved down, brushing the tip of each nipple, then his navel, and finally the edge of his neatly trimmed public hair. Here, she lingered, however, keeping him at a frustrating standstill. He’d promised that he wouldn’t react — wouldn’t ‘wake up’ — until her mouth was on his cock, so he couldn’t move, couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t do anything without that signal. 

Her hands eased his thighs apart. He got his hopes up when her mouth pulled away, but it didn’t touch the place he wanted it most. Instead, her hot, wet tongue just skirted the base and slid down to his balls. 

Oh, but this was torture — and he would know.

She dragged it out a little longer, building the anticipation until he was desperate to move. He wriggled his toes, out of her sight, and squeezed his eyes shut. It was the best he could do, given that he couldn’t snap the cuffs and bloody get on with it. 

Finally, _finally,_ her lips closed around the crown of his cock. He drew in a sharp breath and opened his eyes. Chloe looked up — the blue of her eyes in the early morning light was absolutely heart-stopping — so he played it up a bit, rolling his head so he could see the handcuffs, like he was surprised they were there. He shook his wrists, making the metal rattle, and in response, Chloe took him deeper. 

He didn’t have to fake a reaction to that; after all her teasing, he was close already, and from her look in her eyes, she knew it. And she didn’t relent, pulling out every trick she knew, from stroking the base while sucking hard at the tip, to caressing his balls and nudging his prostate externally, to relaxing her throat and letting him all the way inside. She’d been practicing that maneuver, and he made a mental note to congratulate her on it when he wasn’t handcuffed to the bed and trying dreadfully hard not to come too soon. 

“Chloe,” he managed, the third agonizing time she repeated this routine, because she deserved a warning. 

She slowly withdrew his cock from her mouth and, with his eyes locked on his, she licked the slit while jacking him off with a grip so firm it rivalled his own. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question, and she nodded. He sagged in relief and stopped fighting it, letting the wave build again until it broke over him. His back arched, his wrists pulled at the cuffs, and distantly he remembered not to break them, even as he came in hot pulses against her tongue.

When it passed, he was short of breath and vaguely sweaty, his wrists slipping around the smooth metal of the cuffs. He had a moment to be grateful for his re-discovered invulnerability, because it meant no chafing, but only a moment, because Chloe slid up his body, and as soon as he was face-to-face with his clever, beautiful partner, he lost coherent thought again.

“Good morning,” she breathed. He relished the taste of himself when she kissed him. 

“I like waking up like that,” he told her. 

Chloe’s cheeks were faintly pink. “You were awake the whole time, weren’t you?”

“Not the whole time,” Lucifer replied. He’d missed her raising his right arm to the headboard, after all, and he hadn’t seen or heard her pull out the handcuffs. “Did you like it, darling?” 

That was the more important question, and the fact that it directed her attention away from how long he’d actually been awake was just an added bonus. 

“I did,” Chloe said, sounding a bit ashamed to admit it. He’d cure that modesty one of these days. “I really, really did.”

“Good,” said Lucifer. He shook his wrists again. “So can I break these blasted things yet? I’m dying to touch you.”

Chloe bit her bottom lip. Her face was flame-red now, which meant she wanted something else. Lucifer, unable to draw it out of her the normal way, waited. 

“Are your fingers numb or anything?” she asked. “Are you uncomfortable? Do you need to move?”

Lucifer shook his head. “I’m right as rain,” he said. Then he narrowed his eyes. “Why? How long are you planning to keep me here?”

“Oh, trust me, this won’t take long,” she answered. 

She raised herself up on her knees and shimmied her hips, working those tiny shorts down her legs until she could kick them off entirely. She noticed him watching and made a bit more of a show out of removing her top, sliding her palms up under her breasts, circling her nipples with her thumbs. Lucifer licked his lips.

“Who knew you were so good at torturing me?” he wondered aloud.

Chloe smirked. She crawled up his body again, but didn’t duck her head to kiss him. Instead, she kept going. He grinned, knowing what she was after. But still, she sent him an uncertain look. 

“I can undo the cuffs if you want,” she said. 

“Not unless you want to,” Lucifer replied easily. 

She eyed him for another handful of seconds, then moved closer and settled with her legs spread over his face. 

“Good,” she said, only a little shaky as his tongue snaked out for a tentative first lick. “Because it is really fucking hot to put you in handcuffs.”

She squeezed his hands as if to reinforce the notion. Lucifer squeezed back as best he could. “You may have a slight complex, darling,” he murmured against her clit. 

She shuddered above him, but she didn’t argue, which was just as well. They had better things to do this morning.


End file.
